The Auction Where Everyone Wins
by MalayaKai
Summary: Tanith Delano is a crew-member aboard the Normandy, along for the ride as they're given much needed shore leave after the defeat of the Collectors, celebrating their victory with beer, laughter, and ... a human fetishist convention? Lorik/OFC MassKinkFill
1. Chapter 1

"Please," the vivacious yeoman begged for the tenth time. "Just one little one?"

"No."

"Aww, come on! There are ones that aren't too bad! It can be one of the four letter ones!"

"The worst curses are only four letters!"

"Woman," Kelly declared, brandishing a finger at her crewmate. "You can't be a part of a military ship and not have a decent handle on at least a half dozen swear words."

Tanith rolled her eyes at her superior. "And you aren't supposed to promote without express permission from Commander Shepard, or commandeer personnel for your own uses!" She turned and jabbed the stunned redhead in the chest. "Or is it okay for me to skip up to the commander's quarters and go 'hey! Did you know your yeoman's a fraud?'"

At the stricken look on Kelly's face, Tanith had to turn back to her console lest she burst into laughter. "Get over it," she managed, straight-faced. "I don't swear and I never will."

Minutes dolled by as Tanith tapped at the console, trading files from her datapad and uploading a few to her omni-tool. Eventually, she dared to peek over her shoulder, laughing at a forlorn-looking Kelly, who was still standing there.

"Oh, stop," she chuckled, reaching back to pinch her friend's arm, tapping a few more lines into her report before saving it, uploading it, and logging out. "I won't really tell anyone until it becomes necessary." She sighed, turning around and leaning back against the edge of the desk. "Just be glad I'm not the kind of person that insists on recognition for all the praise you've been getting for my work."

Kelly huffed, crossing her arms over her chest, managing to look indignant. "It's not that bad," she mumbled, her freckled cheeks going pink. "If you weren't so short, they'd have made you the yeo-_OW_!" She held up her arms in self-defense, laughing as her Tanith began to beat at her with her dormant data screen.

"Everyone knows I'm the yeoman's yeoman," Tanith berated, "Everyone but the ones that need to know." She shook her pad at her. "I'm sure you won't get into trouble, but after the euphoria of victory clears, the Commander might start to notice. That's what we need to prepare for. I was fine with the way things were before, as supply chief, but-"

"-but you're a better liaison." Kelly smiled, hooking an arm around Tanith's shoulders, wandering with her toward the elevator. "We've been together for years, kiddo. You were the back-up plan, in case I got shot or something." Tanith snorted but said nothing. "Seriously. EDI's handling all the little stuff that most of us just picked up on our own, but she can't do all the inter-crew communication that has to happen. That's my-"

"-_our_..."

"-our job. Right."

"And you're going to owe me for the last few days. They've been monstrous since they cracked us out of those little cocoons of bio-organic death."

They both shuddered; Kelly went pale, and Tanith dragged a shaking hand through her long hair. There was silence a moment as they struggled to forget what they couldn't stop remembering.

"Yeah," Kelly whispered, proving to Tanith that she'd been right about the real reason she'd begged for Tanith to take up some of the yeoman's responsibilities; Kelly had been the most traumatized by the attack and capture, and it would be a long time before she was at her best. Tanith made a note not to bring it up again.

The doors opened to crew quarters, them both still standing there, unable to move.

Tanith bumped her hip to Kelly's, shaking the other woman from her troubled expression.

"Yeah," she echoed. "So like I said, you owe me." Kelly blinked, looked at her. Tanith smiled. "So let's go to a bar or something."

"I've got one better," came a familiar voice as Commander Shepard herself rounded the corner into the elevator. "We're docked here on Omega for a week. I don't want to see either of you sober or on my ship until the end of it."

Both women had stood at immediate attention, eyes wide as the Commander's words sank in. Dazed, they stepped out onto their floor, gaping at Shepard.

After a minute, the Commander arched an eyebrow, crossing her arms and leaning back a little. "Bugs in your ears? You have a week. Get your shit together and get the fuck off my ship." With a small smile, she tapped the request for her floor, and gave a wink just as the doors slid shut, leaving Kelly and Tanith in the empty hall.

The women looked at each other for another few seconds, and then bolted to their cabins.

~b~

While Kelly and Tanith had been gabbing away, Commander Shepard had apparently made the rounds and delivered her gift of leave to everyone personally. The Normandy was practically deserted by the time they'd dressed in civvies, bag over their shoulders, heading for the airlock.

As they entered the elevator to head up to the CIC, there was a yelped, 'Wait!' just as the doors began to close.

Tanith stuck her foot out, halting the process as Operative Vakarian came into view.

For a split second, she was tempted to pull her foot back.

Trying to hide the heat that singed her cheeks, she stepped back as Garrus entered, making room as he hoisted his own carrier sack against his cowl. He gave a grin to the women, nodding his head. "Hey, thanks. You two have plans for your little vacation?"

Tanith felt like her tongue had swelled up; she shook her head, while Kelly chirped, "Nope! We figure we'll start at Aria's little bar, and just drink ourselves stupid until we stumble upon something fun to do." She grinned at him.

It felt like hours before they managed to get off the ship, Tanith struggling not to trip over herself on the way out of the docking bay. Kelly almost had to run to catch up, hollering a returned farewell to the Turian over her shoulder.

She whirled at Tanith, struggling with her bag. "Could you have been any more of a god-damned spaz?" she declared, laughing at her friend's burning face. "Why don't you just wear a 'FUCK ME GARRUS' t-shirt to work every day until he gets a clue? Because he obviously isn't despite your subtle billboard impressions!"

Tanith covered her face with her hands, even while her feet kept walking. She yelped when Kelly yanked her to the side, narrowly avoiding death by ledge. "I don't know what to say to him!" Tanith squeaked, her face pink, her expression panicked. "He's the only crewmember on your list that I can't talk to, because every time I see him," she pointed at her traitorous face, "_THIS HAPPENS_!"

Kelly, at this point, was laughing so hard she was weeping, clutching her stomach as they waved themselves into Afterlife.

They managed to stagger up to the bar, looking for all the world like they didn't need another drink, and both took down a few shots before spotting the rest of their crew.

"Oh look!" the yeoman pointed. "Let's go say hi! Maybe we can sight-see together!"

"Shouldn't we take care of our bags first? We don't even have a place to stay-"

"Excuse me," came a voice behind them. Turning, they came face to face with one of Aria's more well-trusted employees.

_Henchmen? Employee sounds better_, Tanith thought.

"Your commander has already made arrangements." He handed them both pass cards and data screens. "Everything you need can be accessed here; you have a spending stipend and lodging in one of the better venues." He pointed out said information, before taking both of their bags; a simple thing, really, for a Krogan, even a little one.

Kelly ogled and Tanith stared. "That's a five-star ho-"

"A stipend?"

"-for a week?" they squeaked in unison.

The Krogan, unphased, nodded. "As far as sight-seeing..." His professional manner dropped, and he ducked his head to whisper conspiratorially, "You humans came in on a great weekend." He grinned. "There are a few conventions going on for the next couple days that I'm sure you'll enjoy."

With that little bit of information, he turned on his heel and left.

Tanith, frowning, was the first to ask, "What does he mean by that?"

~b~

"A fetishist convention?" Tanith blurted out, staring at the digital flier Kelly had found in their packet of information.

"A _human _fetishist convention!" Kelly declared, positively glowing with deviant delight. "Look! Look! It happens every two orbits, lasts three days, and it's full of all kinds of wonderful debauchery-"

Tanith and Kelly were sitting at the bar with a collection of their crew, drinks scattered about, evidence of their impromptu celebration. They'd been there for at least an hour, pawing through their bonus packages, checking out their accommodations, bank accounts, and their 'tourist' bundle for Omega.

Jacob, perched on a stool next to Kelly, passed his omni-tool through the flier, effectively uploading a copy of his own. He scrolled through the information, eyeing it dubiously. "Why haven't I ever heard of this before?"

Miranda snorted on the opposite side of Kelly, doing the same as he and copying the flier to her own device. "Half the galaxy doesn't trust us; you think non-humans will get points for having a sexual fetish for us?" She tapped a few inquiries, looking things over. "Although... wow. That's quite the turn-out-"

"Turn-on?" chirped Jack over Miranda's shoulder. "Oooh. They have cameras in the bathrooms-"

"What!" Tanith grabbed Kelly, staring at the read out.

Miranda rolled her eyes. "Bunch of virgins, all of you," she mumbled. "Says here they boast over a hundred thousand attendees for the last convention, with climbing numbers." She scrolled down. "Mmm. Yeoman Chambers is right... all kinds of debauchery... Goodness. Over two thousand booths, each catering to a different aspect of the fetish." She went quiet as she read, her eyebrows slowly disappearing into her hairline. "It's organized by species."

"Species?" Thane interjected, the assassin peering at the flier.

Miranda glanced up at him, her lips twitching. "Yes. The Hanar even have a section. Section, as in, a collection of booths, all to themselves."

The Drell almost gaped, but caught himself just in time. With a hurried expression, he took his last shot and headed for the exit. "Mmm. Thankfully, I don't have to pay an entrance fee for such an indulgence into human erotica."

"I bet you don't," snickered Jack as Thane left the club.

Tanith, meanwhile, had been skimming through the brochure, catching up to Miranda. "Oh... she's right, look... Hanar, Krogan, Asari, Drell... and... and..."

Kelly leaned against her shoulder, leering. "Oh look, Tani. Turians!" Then she grunted, doubled over, a grimace on her face as she clutched her belly. Tanith withdrew her elbow, muttering.

"They have a mudwrestling," Miranda continued. "And naked derby, several voyeur areas, and even a few shows... Mmm, seems the big one today is the public auction."

Jack immediately sat up, tapping a copy to her own omni-tool, blazing through the flier. "Now I know you're lying, cheerleader," she exclaimed, trying to find the same entry. "Oh, shit. She's right."

Kelly squirmed in place, giggling. "Oh god, girls, we have to go! It'll be so much FUN! Imagine, buying a body for the weekend to do whatever you want to with! And look, look! We have a stipend!" At this point, the yeoman was cackling.

Tanith reached over and discreetly pushed Kelly's glass out of reach, shaking her head at the bartender over the counter.

Kelly made a rude gesture at her assistant. "I'm serious! We've got nothing else to do tonight! What better place to go than to a convention where we're practically worshipped as a species! It'll be like... like... like being an Asari!"

And that was how she ended up here.

Tanith fiddled with her skirt for the tenth time, trying to look graceful in these heels without breaking her ankles, following Kelly, Jack, Miranda, Tali, Gabby, and Kasumi into the staged setup of the Fifth Bi-Annual Human Fetishist Convention. The latter two had jumped into the group after Kelly forwarded them copies of the flier, highlighting all the bits she thought they'd like. It took about four hours, but eventually everyone was gussied up to their personal preference, armed with a mild alcohol buzz and ready to rock.

"This is a bad idea," Tanith mumbled for the fifth time, trying not to stare as they wandered into the great unknown of a convention. "Who knows what we'll s-_OH MY GOD IS THAT A HANAR MASSAGE CHAIR-?_"

"OOOH! Where?" came the general, giggled response.

And on it went.

It took nothing for them to have fun; it was rather inevitable. Kelly had been right, it was impossible not to have a good time, with being the ideal sexual object for every non-human there... and there were a lot of non-humans.

Tanith kept stumbling, gaping at all of the flesh hanging out... It seemed there was a collective group that followed the convention, human women (and men) who waited anxiously for two years to come to this shindig. There were booths and tents all over the place, some open to everyone's eyes, some more private... Some areas were sectioned off and rented by the hour, and other places...

She averted her eyes, blushing furiously. _Other places just seem to lay out beds and cameras and invite people to jump right in_.

Tali had been especially interested in the public auctions, explaining to them that it was probably a temporary arrangement, with the profits going to charity or split between the seller (usually the person up on the block) and the host of the convention (in this case, Aria).

"It's an incredibly lucrative operation," she explained. "Everyone gets what they want, you state your rules and preferences as detailed as you want, and as long as the bidders understand that, the auction goes on as long as it needs to and after... well..."

"Wait," Gabby interjected. "How do you know all this?" She stared at Tali pointedly.

If you could blush through a faceplate, the Quarian was probably doing it now. "It's ... it's a common practice at conventions like this, and not so different from legal slavery or indentured servitude, only on a stricter, limited, very short contract. They try to keep them regulated so no one gets hurt or inconvenienced. That reflects badly on everyone, and these conventions make a lot of mone- would you please all stop looking at me like that!"

Jack cackled. "Tali, you little slut!"

Tali ignored her, stalking ahead a little faster. "Look, you can see for yourselves, we're almost there."

The Public Auction was the last event for first 28 hour day, set up against the back wall. Screens projected sellers and their wares, both typically the same for this particular sale. Sellers would step into a booth, their body scanned in, input all their relevant information, preferences, specs, desires, and restrictions. They were matched to potential bidders, and their information was then spammed out to every participating potential buyer on the floor. There was a small crowd in front of the projected screens, pointing, talking, expressing interest, jeering, and even goading some of their human friends to put themselves on the block. You didn't even need to stand here to bid, it seemed; Tanith saw several omni-tools and datapads light up with specifics on potential interested matches all over the convention floor when the auction was announced, and those were just the area around her.

"I can't imagine anyone signing up for this," Tanith muttered, cheeks blushing hotly as she considered all of the horrible (_delightful_) and dangerous (_thrilling_) things that could happen with such a situation. "You don't really know who'd win, let alone what you'd have to ...to..."

"Fuck?" offered Kelly, Jack, Tali, and Gabby.

"_-do!_" squeaked Tanith.

"Don't be such a damn prude," Kelly groaned. "You haven't gotten laid since we signed up on the Normandy- don't think I haven't noticed!" She poked her friend in the shoulder. "I don't care if you get snared up with a Hanar, anything would do you a world of good, as long as it came with orgasms!"

Kelly was drunk, Tanith noticed, but it didn't make it less embarrassing.

"I don't need-"

"FUCK YES you do!" Kelly exploded. "You have a stick up your ass, Tanith Delano! It's cute when we could die any second or hurtle ourselves on suicide missions, but if you don't get busy living, you're going to forget why you're risking your fucking life in the first place!"

Despite her intoxication, the yeoman looked dead serious, even concerned.

Tanith felt mortified. She opted on silence, trying not to look hurt.

Jack pondered the auction set up, stepping forward and eyeing the process. She sneered. "It can't be worse than what I've already gone through. This way, it'd be my choice and I can pick what I want, and get some cash out of it." She snickered, grinning. "I could totally do this..."

"Mmmm, maybe you should, you fleshy little thing," came a drawled reply from behind them. A leering, drooling Turian stumbled forward in what he probably thought to be a saunter of some kind, a drink in his hand, his omni-interface open. "You could make a tidy sum... and make someone here ve-e-er-r-ry happy, too..." He leaned forward, breath wafting in Jack's face. "And you like making people happy... don't y-"

That's as far as he got before a flare of biotic energy exploded in his pants, sending him screaming across the room.

"Oh dear," sighed Miranda, trying very, very heard to look stern. "Jack..."

"Fucker deserved it, don't you dare say he didn't-"

"And here come security!" Kelly declared cheerfully, waving happily at the armed patrolmen walking towards them. Tali snatched the drunken yeoman's arm down. "Hey!"

"I'll take care of this," mumbled Miranda, moving to head off the guards. "You all stay here, I'll be back in a moment." She plucked the back of Jack's outfit, dragging her with her. "You're coming with me, or I'll take away your spending money."

Despite Jack's very vocal protests, she surprised everyone by actually doing as she was told.

While everyone laughed and commented on the turn of events, Tanith couldn't help but replay Kelly's words in her head. She knew Kelly was drunk and would apologize for her little blow up as soon as she was sober, but it didn't erase the fact that she was right. She glanced at her friends; it looked like they were pooling their money, trying to convince their Quarian crewwoman to bid on someone for all of them to share.

"See? It says no human on human bidding; ruins the spirit of the thing-" Kelly was explaining to a hesitant Tali, Tanith over-heard.

When they stepped away a little, admiring a very well built human man on the screen whose response to preferences and restrictions was the same, one word entry ("None"), Tanith glared at the auction application form projected nearby.

_I am not a stick in the mud,_ she thought defiantly. She wasn't! She was spontaneous and clever and sensual and loved fun and laughter just as much as everyone else she worked with. Risking your life every day and working classified locations for years made all of that fall to the wayside; if you focused too much on living, why would you ever want to work again?

But then there was that certain Turian that had caught her eye, and if she was honest with herself, a little of her heart. Kelly was right about that too; if she never found the courage, that ship could pass her by and she'd never know, rejection or not. It was worth it to try, but she needed something to make her brave, and remind herself that she could be that person she was before. She knew that person was worthy of ... of whatever it was she wanted.

But then there was also the question of research.

_What is a Turian g-spot, anyway? _The thought, wayward and flitting through in such a serious tone, made her face split in a delighted grin.

Tanith looked at a vacant scanning booth, smile fading to something more serious, and then gazed back at the girls. It was now or never, she'd never get the nerve to do this while they were watching.

She took a deep breath and stepped in.

~b~

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, and then another moment to readjust as the operating system came online.

"If you would like to remain visually anonymous, please specify," came an automated voice.

Tanith had seen examples of this. "Censor mask, eyes only," she stated.

"Acknowledged. Please fill out the questionnaire while the detailed body scan takes place."

Chewing on the inside of her lip, she skimmed through the questions, answering as best as she could about whom she was, a little of her background, personality traits, habits... It was okay to be vague, but she was more interested in the next part of the form.

"Preferences..." she murmured, her cheeks going red as she considered her options. If she was too specific, she may never get bid on, and all of this would be for nothing. If she was too general, who knows what she'd end up with?

_How about a little of both?_ She thought, blushing hard as she began to key in the traits she found attractive in a bidder.

_Can I put a background in C-sec?_ she thought ludicrously, stifling her hysterical giggles as she filled it out. Too specific, I'd give myself away...

Legal law-enforcement isn't too specific. And cops are good...

_Oh lord. Handcuffs._

_No no no, this is about research, and... and my personal enjoyment. I don't want Garrus for the first round, nobody so similar as to mar my first experience with him ... I mean, that is if I get one..._

Male. Definitely male. Tall. No criminal bac-

Wait, scratch that. She backspaced quickly, and wondered if she should just leave that part blank.

Dominant?

"Hmm..."

She cleared her throat and kept on entering information, pleasantly surprised at the effect this was all having on her. This was... fun! In record time, she came to the last question.

Species: _.

"Well..."

~b~

A moment later, Tanith stepped out of the booth, just as her information went up on the digital block. She was beginning to wonder if she'd been too specific; how many clean-nosed ex-con Turians were there that were at least six feet tall and a sincere fetish for human women? She was also beginning to wonder what the hell Kelly put in her drink, to make her try something as insane as this.

Rationally, she knew that she could take this entire occurrence as financial padding and a learning experience, if she managed to make enough after Aria took her cut. She eyed the screen, blushing harder as she spotted her specs up on the board, her body scan rotating in three dimensional, faded colors, information scrolling around her generous figure. Her features were obscured by a projected mask, marking out her eyes but leaving most of her recognizable; she knew anyone from the Normandy would-

"Holy shit the virgin fucking went nuts while we were away-!"

Tanith didn't bother to see who it was; Jack's piercing shriek was impossible to miss, so she simply turned heel and ran, the teasing jeers of her friends radiating in her scalding ears.

"I am never going to live this down- What was I thinking?" she laughed, hysterical, ducking into an empty booth as the women of Normandy darted past, calling her name. She clamped her hands over her giggling mouth, trying to quiet herself.

_Gods! I've done lost my mind!_

The grin on her face faded as she spotted something, hands falling from her mouth as she realized what she was looking at.

The name she'd posted for herself, Mercurial Dana, was tapped, highlighted, and her likeness pulled up to the main screen. In minutes, she was projected, front and center, her bids enlarged and rapidly updated.

"Oh my..." she breathed.

She'd been right; she'd been very specific with only 26 bidders lining up for her post. Compared to the others she'd seen that night, and the auctions still going, that number was fairly pathetic. What wasn't pathetic, however, was the number of credits rolling under her image.

When asked for a species preference, Tanith had only put one down. If she was ever going to get brave enough to hit on Garrus Vakarian, let alone ask him out or more, she'd need the experience of a Turian male just to know what she was up against. At least, this was what she'd rationalized. It might have been an excuse to do something incredibly reckless, but there was some truth to it. She'd feel better knowing exactly what it was that she wanted.

Tanith covered her gaping mouth with her hand, watching as the bidding war continued. When it was down to five bidders, the screen-names were posted: VintageWarrior, The_General2357, HumansTasteG00d, PD1ck, and AdminN123. Over and over, the list refreshed itself as they battled for a place, up and down, dropping, climbing, disappearing, returning...

For ten minutes, the bidding continued. It was quick, small increments piling up to a larger and larger figure, and before long, there were only two bidders left; AdminN123 and VintageWarrior. It seemed to drag on, the two entering bids at the last moment, back and forth, effectively sniping each other until-

Her handheld beeped, and she brought it up to her wide eyes, breathing a little faster. It was a notification; AdminN123 was the winning bidder. He met her specifications perfectly, she was informed, and because she'd managed to achieve a number that put her in the 'Gold Class', she and her 'owner' would be provided a suite at one of the best hotels on the station, better even than the accommodations provided by the Commander. She was to go to the Service Kiosk in the center of the convention for the key, instructions, and a copy of the contract her winning bidder had just signed.

Tanith's hands started to shake, and she swallowed dryly.

"Oh goodness. What have you done, Tani?" she breathed.

~b~

The winning bidder got to dictate how his 'prize' would be presented to him. In this case, he wanted her clothed in attire of his choosing, unmasked, and in the suite before he arrived. She was given a medical scan and injected with something to help with allergic reactions should she choose to 'ingest' any Turian … fluids.

She was there, staring out the large wall of windows at the lights of the station around her and below her, a glass of champagne in her shaking hand, her other rubbing the injection mark on her bare upper arm.

It was a beautiful set of rooms, located on a high floor, clear of most of the pollution and the less legal antics of the station. Marble floors, pale white, gleamed with the light of an artificial hearth, digital fire illuminating walls of rich colors. Soft rugs were spread here and there, laid beneath large, comfortable chairs. A dining table built of Earth iron and set with Hanar glass was laid out with several different bottles of vintage, arranged around a pair of glasses. Across the room opposite the large double doors, tall floor to ceiling windows lined the entire half of the suite, with a door of their own leading out to a beautiful balcony.

Tanith was trembling, she was so nervous. Tremors of anxiety, both pleasant and not, radiated up and down her nerves, making anything other than standing a torture beyond words. She couldn't stop thinking, wondering why, why had this happened so quickly? Did she think she'd never get bid on? Here?

She took a swig from her glass, then pressed the cool perspiring surface to her brow, closing her eyes.

What will happen tonight? she wondered. I should have specified no sex unless permission given. Why didn't I think to put that in until after the auction was over?

The girls had disappeared, Tanith had hoped so fervently to run into them, to let them laugh at her while she begged their advice, to see if there was a way out of all this.

But Omega was run by thugs and gangsters, and Aria was their queen. Everyone knew that these events made her ridiculous amounts of legit money, and you did not fuck with Aria and her money. Ever.

So she'd done as she was directed, finding this room and the set-up, complete with a satiny, lovely dress on the bed. It was dark red with touches of cream, the fabric heavy but the skirt short. It even came with heels. Doubting it'd fit her, as her curves were more generous than most even for a human, she was surprised, pleasantly so, to find it fit her about as well as a sock would fit a foot.

And that was what she was standing in, staring at the city of lights, trying not to squirm or run or wet herself with nerves.

"Come on, girl," she assured herself, gritting her teeth. This will only be bad if I let it. She took another drink and lifted her chin, setting the glass aside. I've got this.

Well. She was already beginning to feel better.

Then the door opened, and she very suddenly couldn't make herself turn around.

_Oh god oh god oh god oh god-_

"Good evening," came a resonant, deep, dual-toned Turian voice she did not recognize. She swallowed, a sound that seemed loud to her ears, and willed herself to answer, or turn, to no avail.


	2. Chapter 2

He was moving. She could hear careful footsteps, footsteps made audible a-purpose, followed by the sound of clink glass and the pour of liquid. He was trying to be polite, she guessed, instead of sneaking up on her and just throwing her down-

_-and why am I disappointed he didn't do that?_

She closed her eyes and willed herself to stop shaking. He had stepped closer, there was a brushing caress across her upper back, a soft purr of approval.

"Your scan seemed so exaggerated," came the voice above her; he was as tall as she could have wanted. "I did not expect you to be everything it claimed you'd be." His caress drifted down her spine, around and in at her waist, gripping gently before skimming the round, smooth curve of her hip.

She expected it to go south, literally, from there, but he surprised her, his three-fingered hands gripping at her shoulders to gently, insistently pull her around to face him. For some stupid, childish reason, she dropped her eyes, unable to look at him, shaking in her high-heels and this expensive dress, wondering what the hell she was going to say if he made her do something she didn't want-

"Your expression warrants an explanation on your part, but I think I can guess," came the droll, amused response to her visual avoidance. "You have never done this before. And by 'this', I mean put yourself up for auction for sexual activity, or ..." He drew a knuckle up her neck, tilting her chin up, forcing her to look up at him. "Mated with someone outside your species."

The words seemed to settle into her cheeks, making them burn red as she finally let her eyes take him in.

She inhaled sharply, surprised again.

Turian fetish (which she fully admitted, now, that she had) notwithstanding, this fellow was a handsome one. He was older, much more along in years than Garrus Vakarian, with dark eyes and darker coloring, his clan markings blazing white on plates that bordered on black. He was broader in the shoulder and chest, and a touch taller, the suit he wore accenting both with lean lines and dark fabric; the Turian equivelant to a human suit, cut and tailored to fit even with his leg-spurs, pinstripes an echo to his own personal markings. His taste was impeccable.

His chuckle resonated through his chest and through her; while she had stared up at him, he had pulled her closer.

"Mmm. I was right. How delightful," he murmured, the knuckle under her chin stroking along her jaw, finger uncurling to scrape a sharp talon lightly around the edge of her ear. "Human faces are delightfully easy to read. How do they say it?" He leaned close, feeling the shudder ripple through her as his touch affected her so easily. "Like an open book."

He set down his glass to free both of his hands, both coming up to cup her face, peering down at her like she was the most delectable thing he'd seen all year. She bit her lip when she felt his breath feather across her cheek, feeling herself respond to this whole situation with arousal, the desire sharp and stabbing, catching her off-guard.

His smile was slow and almost sly, nostrils flaring a little.

Now she felt like cursing. Stupid Turian sense of smell-

"Are you going to speak with these lips, soft-skin?" he murmured, low voice reverberating through her bones, touching her mouth with careful thumbs. "Or should I expect more articulate responses from your other lips?"

That had her blushing harder than before, Tanith squirming from out of his embrace, taking a step back, stealing the glass he'd abandoned nearby. Her gait was smooth, she was thankful she didn't stumble as she wandered away from him, taking him in, thinking about what to say, what to ask. She took a sip from his glass, ignoring his expanding grin.

"You seem to know a lot about human anatomy," she said simply, stopping at the hearth to eye him from a distance, examining the lean length of him, the shape his body made against the lights of the city.

_He's big, even for a Turian,_ she thought.

"Unlike you," he drawled, though his manner and tone were polite, "I'm happy to assure you that I've done this before." He meandered over to the large, many-pillowed bed. "Many times, in fact."

She took another drink. "At this particular convention, or...?"

Her companion shrugged. "Hardly. It was a lovely thing to discover, to be sure; it's the biggest convention of its kind. Humans are still fairly new to our universe, after all; we've only just begun to understand your many uses, and appreciate your many ... attributes."

She was blushing again. Clearing her throat, she lifted her chin, trying to stay brave. "Oh really? And what is it that you ... appreciate?"

"Myself in particular, or do you mean the Turian population at large? Or perhaps, just the ones here at the convention?" His mandibles were flaring wide in an unabashed grin.

Tanith gestured, face on fire. "You, of course!" Can I blush any harder?

He was quiet a long while, still grinning, amused beyond reason and quite at ease. After a moment, he leaned back against the bed, braced on his hands, and tilted his head at her."If I tell you," he rumbled, "Will you remember that you have a contract to keep with me?"

"No."

That shook his tree a little bit, Tanith was pleased to notice; his smile faded, but instead of looking angry, he looked intrigued. For whatever reason, this both tickled her and made him even more attractive.

She gave a little shrug and stepped over to him, taking her time to saunter a little; it was easy to feel sexy, she realized, when everything about your very species turned your audience on. When she was close enough, she reached out to run her palm over his knee, stepping between his thighs, spreading them to stand between them. He was doing that noise again that sounded somewhat between a purr and a growl.

He understood that he wasn't supposed to move; he stayed still as her palms both brushed each of his thighs, curious, feeling the give of his plates, the tendon, the strong shape of him. She gripped his hips, pressing her thumbs into his pelvis, feeling the very architecture of him, listening as his purr grew louder. Her eyes widened as she caught the sight of ... something else, beneath his clothes, also growing. Flushing, she looked up at him, his eyes warm even with his amused expression.

Concentrating on her examination of him, she ran her trembling hands up his chest, to his throat, stroking back and around the edge of his cowl, only to bring her palms back to his neck. She'd never been this close to a Turian before, let alone touched one; she wanted to soak as much of it in as she could.

His mandibles fluttered a little when she brushed them with her fingertips, so she made sure to do it again, noticing he was especially responsive when her touch lingered at the tips, and again when her stroking touch worked around the underside of his fringe. The whole time, his eyes never left her, his gaze sharp and clear, like he could see through her actions and knew what it was she really wanted. But … just in case…

She cleared her throat again, fiddling with a fold of fabric along his leg without realizing it. "I posted that contract," she murmured, "for a variety of reasons, the most important one being... well, research." When he tilted his head at her, askance, she rolled her eyes and dropped her gaze. "You aren't the only one with a fetish for different species."

With a laugh that was both deep-bodied and soft, the Turian wound both arms about her waist and drew her against him, leaning back and pushing off so that they were both propelled back into the bed. She squeaked in surprise and squirmed in his grip, flustered and startled and not at all dignified. When she opened her mouth to protest, a sleek, textured tongue found its way inside, a firm hand closing in her hair to keep her in place as he gave her a long, slow, sensuous kiss.

Turian mouth plates had some give, she knew, but this was the first time she realized how much. With a texture like soft leather, his 'lips' were almost, almost, as pliable as hers, though without protruding as hers did. They opened and molded to her mouth, coaxing and swallowing gasp after soft, breathless sigh, teasing at her tongue with his own, drawing her out, daring her to do the same until, with a groan of his own, she brushed the fine edges of his pointed teeth, traced the inside of his bottom lip with the tip of her tongue, and stroked long and slow along the roof of his mouth.

When at last they drew apart, Tanith was panting, hair disheveled, and her Turian was in a similar state; suit ruffled, lids a little heavier, breathing also quickened a pace. He shifted against her, the shape of his arousal brushing her bare thigh through the fabric of his pants. She bit her lip and all but groaned, pressing herself back into him, lifting a thigh to wrap around his leg. She had wanted this for too long, too curious and shy, and it struck her, somewhere, at how strange this all should have been to her. Instead, she was so horny she could barely see straight.

_This had better not become a habit._

He chuckled in delight, running a hand up her leg, blazing a trail of sensation up her thigh, pushing her skirt slowly higher, and higher. "One of my favorite things about you humans," he rumbled. "Not even the Asari are as sensitive as your species is..."

To prove his point, he rolled her to her back, drew her knee up a few inches along his side, and bucked against the apex of her thighs.

With a cry, Tanith threw her head back and arched into him, her fingers digging into the upper part of his arms. She was delirious with need, her body aching and hungry, her sex wet, soaking easily through her panties. To her embarrassment, the surge of arousal that followed his actions made him flare his nostrils again, and this time he gave her a full, unabashed grin.

"Mmm, yes," he purred, rolling his clothed hips into her damp, fabric-covered sex. "So very, very sensitive." He lowered his head to her exposed throat, opening his mouth to graze sharp teeth along her skin.

A moan escaped her, eyes fluttering shut, and she rolled her hips into him, sharp and strong. His answering grunt brought another surge of moisture, and she gasped when he drew back, leaving her cold and lost.

His departure was momentary; one glance at his face and she knew he wasn't going to leave her there. Talons scored her hips as he pushed up her dress and snagged her panties, drawing them down her legs and tossing them over the edge of the bed. Then he was back, his mouth pressing to hers, rough tongue seeking entry as he pressed one flailing human wrist to the bed, his other hand drawing patterns along the inside of her thigh with talons angled just so.

When he brushed the damp, over-hot folds of her sex, Tanith jerked against the bed, breathing hard and squirming. "Careful-" she breathed against his ear, even though she knew, of the two of them, he probably had a better idea of how to handle her than she did. His responding rumble was reassuring, however, and she forced herself to relax the fraction it took to unclench her thighs from around his waist.

His touch was perfect; he didn't stray to the often first-to-be-greeted clitoris, but instead slipped his talon into her wet, tight entrance the first chance he got. Her whimper was indecent enough to make her flush, and the effect it had on him was fairly profound; he growled sharply into the curve of her neck, and for the first time, she felt the true pin-prick of sharp teeth.

He mumbled something into her skin, about her delightful responses or something, before adding a second digit to the first.

Her thighs fell completely open, hips lifting into his touch as she gave a soft, keening moan.

"Please, please, don't-" she began, but she couldn't remember what she was trying to beg him for. He began to thrust is hand, stroking her within, curving his fingers just so and driving her wild with his firm, suggestive pace. Panting, she dug the nails of her free hand into his shoulder, arching her back and thrusting her hips into him. Her release was quick and abrupt, and if she'd had the brains to think so, she'd have been a little embarrassed.

She came back to the world to find him stretched out next to her, watching her with a look of admiration and smug satisfaction. Post-orgasmic and relaxed for the first time in weeks, she did the first thing that came to mind: she wrinkled her nose and stuck her tongue out at him.

His mandibles widened in a small grin, his hand moving to brush the hair from her eyes before straying back, pulling at hair pins until her knot came loose, and the whole thick, curly mass fell about her ears in a sable cascade. It seemed to fascinate him, her tresses, and he combed through a few times experimentally. She closed her eyes, giving in to the simple, sensual tug.

"So tell me about this other Turian," he said after several moments, talons moving down to unbutton her dress. "If I'm to help you with this … research … it may benefit us both if I knew a bit more about him."

She watched him idly, shifting to accommodate him. She considered her words. "He's military, and a cop," she stated. "A sniper too. Honest, ridiculously hard working, and painfully loyal."

Her lover snorted. "Favorite color?"

"Blue. I think."

The last button was undone. Rough palms parted the fabric, seeking her skin beneath and soon she was bare to him. Hating herself for trembling like a virgin, her arms crossed over her chest as he drew the dress away and tossed it aside. He nudged her shoes off and skimmed his hands up her thighs, only to slowly draw down her stockings.

When he was finished, he pulled her wrists aside and pinned them above her head, rumbling happily as he caressed her with his eyes, taking her in. Still completely clothed, he moved to kneel between her thighs, using his knees to open her legs, rocking his hips against hers. It was a simple expression of dominance, really; he had the upper-hand in this scenario, clothed while she was not, pinning her in place with both his grip and the weight of his body.

The elegant eroticism of it all had Tanith panting, a resurgence of wetness between her legs that had her squirming against the bed, an arousal so intense that she could smell it. And of course, so could he; she saw his nostrils flare again, and he groaned happily above her.

"What do they call you, human?" he purred, lowering himself to press the shape of his erection through his clothing and into her hot skin.

Her lips felt dry. When she licked them, she felt him twitch against her.

"Tanith," she replied quietly, her thighs shifting around his hips. He continued to look at her like a predator, his eyes straying again and again to the bare, unmarred flesh along her neck and shoulder.

"Tanith," he echoed. He transfered her wrists to one hand, the other moving down between their hips, dropping his head lower to brush teeth along the edge of her jaw. "Tanith, I'm going to fuck you now, and even if you tell me stop once I'm inside you," she shuddered as he paused to run his tongue slowly down her vulnerable throat, "...it will be physically impossible at that point for me to do so."

He rolled his pelvis against hers, running the tip of his exposed, bare cock along the wet seam of her sex. She bit back a moan, staring up at him, wild-eyed and hungry. He purred at her again, stroking her cheek.

"So I need you to tell me, now, Tanith," he murmured, nipping at her bottom lip, "if you accept me as your lover... or if we should schedule a refund-"

"-there is no way in this stupid Universe you're stopping now," she groaned, lifting her hips in offering.

Apparently that was all he'd been waiting for. He met her gaze as he slowly rubbed the tip of his erection against her opening with a controlled roll of his hips, growling faintly under his breath, teasing her, coaxing her hips to widen around him. Then he thrust, sharp and quick, completely into her.

She was moist and so very, very ready, but it still shocked the hell out of her to be taken like that. Throwing her head back and going stiff, the cry torn from her was a combination of shock, joy, pain, and exquisite sensation.

When she finally grew accustomed to him, she opened her eyes, panting, peering up at him. His eyes were closed, his expression tight. She flexed her muscles around him and dropped her thighs open about his hips, both wanting and curious.

That got him going, piercing eyes snapping open to return her stare, mandibles going slack with a strange expression. Carefully, he drew his hips back, testing the resistance of her body, the slick lubrication of her sex. When she moaned and lifted her hips again, he complied happily, rocking back into her, using his free hand to lift her thigh, drawing her leg over his shoulder.

Perfectly spread, she could feel every inch of him slide in and slide out, noting that he must have been curved or ridged or something, because while he wasn't as thick as some of the human men she'd been with, he could hit that coveted, perfect spot within her on every stroke, forward or back. His thrusts were measured and fluid, rhythmic and unchanging at first. The fire inside her belly was building, a careful, slow sensation, one that threatened to rob her of sanity as long as he could keep going.

He shifted above her and released her wrists, pushing the knee over his shoulder closer to her body, his other hand gripping her hip as he tilted it up and back. He was poised to pound into her, and with a swift increase in pace, he did just that. Practically drilling into her, bending her in half, she squealed as he began to piston in and out of her in hard, quick strokes.

The angle was perfect and she couldn't stop the indecent, high-pitched cries that burst from her every time he moved, and when she came, she clenched so hard she couldn't breathe, clawing at the headboard above her head.

With several hard, deep, fierce thrusts, the Turian atop her roared his release, pumping into her, his head thrown back, holding her hips tight to him as he emptied his seed into her spasming body.

For several minutes, the room was filled with their panting, gasping breaths, their bodies still tense and trembling, until Tanith melted, with a soft sigh. He all but collapsed over her, catching himself on one shaking arm, the other gripping the headboard to leave gouges in the wood.

Her lids were heavy when she finally managed to look up at him, still breathing hard. He was staring at her, his avian features lax and pleased, his mandibles flared as he panted too. Uncurling his hand from the wood, he traced a shaking digit along her brow, brushing her hair back with a delicate touch of talon to skin. The simple affection made her eyes drift closed, her sigh conveying all of her satisfaction and gratitude.

Tanith couldn't say how long they slept. She lay on her side, pleasantly warm against a smooth breathing form that curled up around her from behind. She had no desire to do anything but sleep and breathe.

~b~

An insistent, loud beeping noise woke her, a notification from her omni-tool, leaving her languid in her blissful exhaustion, opening her eyes to glare in bewilderment at her glowing outstretched arm. Her attempt to shut it off failed, as her other arm was tangled up in something, which did nothing but further confuse and irritate her.

She was saved, however, by a large, three-fingered hand, wrapping around her glowing wrist and bending her arm, bringing it close enough so that another Turian arm came around her from above and disabled the device.

Problem solved, both arms wound about her and drew her close and tight into the form that nestled against her. With a sigh of contentment, Tanith closed her eyes and rubbed her naked, soft rear into the harder, rigid surface of partner. The rumble of sleepy approval made her smile, and it wasn't long before she was asleep again.

~b~

Her hips ached, twitching against the sheets, and Tanith murmured in her sleep, brow furrowing, head tossing to the side.

_No no, I want to sleep..._

But there it was again, that sensation...

Rough palms against the insides of her thighs, pushing them wider, and then-

A cry burst from her lips, her back arching as her flailing hands gripped a pair of shoulders nestled under her knees. A tongue, warm and wet and rough and distinct, wriggled into her sex as a firm mouth plate nudged indulgently at her clitoris.

Blinking back sleep, she lifted her head to stare at the white-marked Turian nestled between her legs, as naked as she, legs over his shoulders as he feasted upon her over-senstive, swollen flesh. Black eyes flicked up to her, and she felt his mandibles flutter against the bottom curves of her ass as he rumbled happily into her skin.

That made her gasp and buck into his mouth, and he dug his sharp talons into her hips in response.

He was lapping along the seam of her body, slow, long strokes that made her twitch and spasm against the bed but didn't do anything to progress her towards orgasm; he was doing this for his enjoyment as much as hers, she understood, so she settled back to enjoy the pleasure, the sensations, following his example.

After a little while, though, her hands began to paw at his fringe, digging into his head and noting at those times, he would speed up and growl into her hips. Grinning to herself, Tanith reached a little further down and around, and stroked nails against the tender underside of his fringe, just above his neck-

Quite suddenly, her world turned over and she was face down on the floor, ass in the air, legs spread, and a snarling, aroused Turian loomed above her. He growled a fewe things that didn't translate, and that was all the warning she had before he entered her, as quick and sharp as the first time.

She cried out against the floor, hands scrabbling for purchase against the marble, lifting her hips up into him as he filled her, the position piercing her deep and rubbing her in different, delightful ways than the night before. He growled again, holding her hips in place as he began to piston into her hard, deep, and relentless. Yelling into smooth floor, digging her fingers into the unyielding surface, Tanith felt her climax mount inside her as surely as he had. Within moments, she was begging him not to stop, warning him that she was close, pleading with him to just let her, let her-

She came so hard she saw stars, gasping, shuddering, and promptly blacking out to the sound of his feral grunts, his last final thrusts toppling her into a warm, sensual oblivion.

~b~

It was warm, and bright.

And wet.

Tanith moaned softly, shifted. She heard the soft splash of water, and a warm chuckle.

"So she lives," her Turian murmured.

She was in a bath, the lights warm and ambient, the room without windows. In made a lie of the world she knew was beyond this place, a city of deviants and pollution. The marble here was warm cream, the tub set deep into the floor.

"I don't know about that," she grumbled, trying not to smile and failing. "I think you broke me..."

He chuckled into her hair. He was cradling her against him, his hand under her chin to hold it above water, his other arm around her waist. He nuzzled into her ear, growling softly, his touch skimming across her lower belly. Drowsy, the caress made her whimper and stiffen, every nerve in her body telling her she was over-stimulated.

"Nngh... we have three days for you to rut me into oblivion," she moaned plaintively. "If you just let me rest, I promise... I'll do anything you ask..."

To her surprise, the Turian laughed aloud, a delighted sound. He shifted behind her and withdrew his hand, helping her sit up. Water splashed against the edges of the tub as they moved, and he adjusted her to sit on his knees.

"Very well," he sighed. She turned her head to see him smiling in that strange, alien way. "I have no interest in completely breaking such a lovely toy before I'm finished playing with it."

Her lips twitched, the woman feeling sly and sensual. With a suggestive sound, she stretched her arms above her head and indulged in a long, slow stretch, undulating her spine in an old dancer's move.

His responding growl sounded so indignant, his hands barely refraining from digging talons into her hips.

"...I'll take it back," he grumbled, rubbing his brow between her shoulderblades.

Tanith giggled and squirmed, drawing away from him with some effort. The tub was large enough for both of them to lounge in easily, and she took advantage of the size to dunk her hair, submerging for a moment before standing on the opposite side.

She should have known better, though; when she brushed the wet hair from her eyes, he was there, pressing against her, arms winding about her wet body, soft moist flesh to harder Turian plates. Laughing, she gripped his upper arms as she blinked away the water, noting that his texture was more yielding than before, even smoother.

"I change my mind." He tightened his arms about her. "Your contract dictates that you are exclusively mine for three days," came his explaination, his mouth skimming the skin at her throat, in particular the flesh where her neck met her shoulder. "I don't want to waste any of it, if I have the choice."

While he purred into her skin, his actions tickled a memory to the surface, something she'd heard about from Kelly in one of her many long-winded lectures about non-humans and their customs...

Blinking, she ran her hands up the ridged surface of his back, skimming up and over his cowl, finding the vulnerable, softer flesh of his own neck that his species had adapted to protect.

_Here..._ she remembered.

"Turians mark their mates," she murmured against his cheek. She felt him go still, his face hidden against her shoulder.

"Right here," she breathed, stroking the side of his neck with gentle fingers, the twin to the spot he nuzzled on her now. "To show a claim, to mark them as theirs for at least as long as it remains."

He pulled back a little to look down at her, for once his face completely un-readable. Careful talons rubbed at her neck as he considered her, that same deep, resonant purr radiating through him. With his eyes on her, she leaned forward, opening her mouth, and moved her fingers to press teeth to his neck, suggestive, hard, but not enough to break skin.

The reaction in him was profound; a shudder rippled through him, followed by her sudden back-bend against the edge of the tub. Instintively, she wrapped a leg around his hip, her spine arched almost painfully as he pressed into her.

She felt teeth press against her neck, felt his quick, hard breathing against her skin. She could also feel the turmoil inside of him, his refined exterior at war with instinct and, if she could be so bold to suggest, feral need.

"Are you giving me permission, soft-skin?" he ground into her skin.

_Gods... am I?_ she wondered.

Back and forth he brushed his mouth, brushing her flesh with sharp teeth and darting, gentle tongue. When she said nothing and simple trembled, he murmured, "And what of your Turian?"

For a moment, she was genuinely confused, and she replied, "...what Turian-?" before she understood what he'd been referring to. Who he'd been referring to. In truth, she had completely forgotten.

_Ohright ...Garrus-_ she thought, before his teeth sank in.

The pain wasn't deep but it was intense, her cry smothered in his shoulder as he gripped the back of her head, his other busy between them. With his teeth still shallow in her flesh, laved by his tongue, he shifted quickly and sank deeply into her.

The pleasure and red-searing pain combined, robbing her of thought as he moved against her, pumping slow and firm. Eventually, the pain faded altogether, the Turian drawing back his head to gaze down at her, his hands cradling her head against the rim of the tub.

She whimpered as he took her slow, almost gentle, even as she saw blood on his bottom lip; when her head lolled back, she felt his mouth brush the pulse at her throat, his tongue lathing st his bite mark, still working her gently, rumbling under his breath, his native words (at least, she assumed so, as her translator wasn't kicking in) caressing her skin. Their previous activities had been fierce and almost hard, passionate and intense. This time, it was no less intense, but this time, he measured his speed, savored his movements, and took in every little expression as he sank into her.

The tenderness of his gaze was making her blush, and it soon got difficult to look at him while he beheld her so. Still, Turian hands framed her face, combing talons into her hair and forcing her to watch him while he rocked into her slow, and indulgent, and completely unmerciful.

His mouth dropped to hers, skimming her soft, whimpering lips as he sipped her gasps, savored her tremors. He gripped her flank, digging sharp digits into her hip as he began to move a little fiercer, harder, his breathing labored as he fought the urge to rut her in to his own release. Part of her was aware of this self-control, moved by it, and it was this awareness that toppled her over the edge.

With a cry twisting from her, she arched beneath him and shuddered once, thighs spread and body rigid, her release spilling through her like hot water from a bucket. Even now, she knew he watched her, and he waited until she sagged boneless against the marble before he carried himself the rest of the way, jerking inside her as he thrust once, twice, and spilling within her shaking hips.

It was a long time before either of them could move, their breathing quick and labored. Eventually, though, he recovered first and withdrew, drawing her down into the water with him. With careful touches, he washed her gently from head to toe, rinsing her clean and, after pulling her from the bath, patting her dry with a soft towel. Despite her protests, he carried her back into the main room and into their bed, finishing his work by playfully toweling her hair.

When he went to retrieve a towel of his own, she admired his strange form as he moved away from her. He reminded her of a lean human, his limbs leaner and longer than her species, his legs bent backward and accented with those leg spurs. It still amazed her how graceful Turians were, their smooth gait, their unconscious ability to take only as much as space as they needed to.

He reclaimed his place in the bed, stalking over her and forcing her to lean back. He gathered her into his arms and pulled her over him, rumbling happy as he ran his hands down her damp, bare back, traveling back up to comb his talons through her wet hair. Unable to help herself, Tanith wriggled happily atop him, tucking her knees between his, bringing her hands up to squeeze his upper arms and shoulders affectionately, her cheek dropping to his warm chest.

It was generally known that Turian bodies ran hotter and faster than humans, with a quicker pulse and higher body temperature. Having never touched a Turian before, she still marveled at the heat of him, radiating out and making her sigh at the simple pleasure. A chuckle reverberated within him, his touch running carefully over her scalp and down her neck.

"Soo," he began careful. "Enjoying yourself so f-"

"I'm completely ruined for humans," she assured him, squeezing him as he laughed into her hair.

"_Mmrrrm_. We aren't all so nice, you know."

"Yes, but most of you are almost this appealing. I'm guaranteed to turn into quite the Turian groupie after this."

"Oh? And here I thought I was doing just one other Turian a favor, your blue-loving friend."

Tanith grew quiet, rubbing her cheek thoughtfully against his sternum as she considered his words. Eventually, she drew up and lifted her head, looking into his sable eyes, finding a question there that he was trying to hide behind playful banter and coy expressions. She shifted upward, brushing her lips across his mouth, drawing her fingers across his cheek, tracing the stark lines of white along his shadowy hide.

His eyes drifted half-way closed when her tongue darted across the seam of his mouth, moaning softly and parting his lips.

"What other Turian?" she whispered, feeling him growl possessively in response and grip her tight before rolling her beneath him.


	3. Chapter 3

They couldn't make it through the three days. In fact, they didn't check out until the morning Tanith had to report for duty.

Waking up was hard that day.

_No_, thought Tanith hours later, as she stared out the windows near the Normandy's docked form. _No, getting out of the bed had been what was hard._

Her Turian lover had tempted her since very early that morning, with caresses, soft, tender words, and promises that sounded so sincere it made her body weep.

"Stay with me," he'd whispered into her ear, his firm mouth plates opening wider to skim the outer edge of her ear. It'd made her shiver, wriggle back into his warm chest, his hard, strong arms. He had tightened his grip on her, let his mouth stray along the vulnerable pulsing vein at her throat; his favorite place to kiss.

"I'm getting fairly long in the tooth," he'd continued. "My colleagues would chalk it up to senility, and I'll just tell them all you're my personal pet gold-digger... No one would care." She could feel his grin at the back of her neck. The memory made her smile. "And you'd only have to stay until I die, which is, let's face it, sooner than your end of times-"

At that point, she'd rolled over and hit him in the head with her pillow, his startled face enough to get her laughing, even if his words hadn't gotten her well on her way.

She peeled back the blankets and slid her bare, warm skin against his yielding, leather-hard plates, tucking a knee between his thighs, slinging a leg over his hip. His rumble of pleasure tempered her laughter to a warm, affectionate smile, one he answered when she brushed back the cushion and revealed his face. She cupped his face with her hands, no longer alien to her, and stroked his dark cheeks with her thumbs, lining her fingers up with the white clan markings that radiated out from his face.

"You spend a week with me, most of which is in bed-"

"-and on the floor, and the lovely antique desk, and I do recall a few hours you spent plastered up against that divine, hand-wrought window-"

"-And at the end of it you're asking me to be your mistress and move with you to... to.." She paused, lost; had he even told her where he was from?

"Noveria," he told her, threading long-taloned digits into her tousled dark hair, reveling in the feel of it against his knuckles.

She stared at him a moment, only to laugh. "The land of eternal snow and crazy science experiments?" she giggled.

He nodded, serious save the twinkle in his eyes. "I'd build you a fort of snow," he suggested, snuggling closer to her, drawing her knee further up his hip. She could feel his erection brush her thigh, and she shivered in response; she knew what was coming. "Giant Turian snow legions. With tubers for noses and rocks for eyes-"

"I think you're confusing your descriptions," she teased back, breathless, until he pushed her to her back and slid into her. Then, she truly was without breath, filled up, spine arching, feeling her legs drawn over his shoulders as he began to move inside of her, hips pistoning slow and hard.

_Had he learned so much from me in just a week's time?_ Tanith wondered in the now, leaning against the railing, ignoring the passage of crewmates behind her, the occasional greeting. She was lost in recent memory, even as her eyes wondered the curves of her beloved ship.

She stood there until the last minute, leaning back with a sigh, gripping the rail before groaning in defiance and frustration. There was no help for it. It was time to go.

She didn't even know his name.

Upon turning away, she was quite suddenly in the way of a completely different Turian altogether, one she had all but forgotten.

"Oh! Officer Vakarian!" she gasped, coming to attention and snapping a salute out of sheer surprise. Her attraction to him didn't strike her as hard as it did the last time he'd been this close, and it was the memory of the attraction that made her blush more than anything.

That, and the fact that the last Turian she saw had her pressed against a wall, fucking her senseless while he howled his release.

But besides that, a detached part of her couldn't help but notice, there was nothing she felt for Garrus Vakarian than respect and a crewman's camaraderie.

Well, crap, she thought. All that research for nothing, I guess?

_Yeah right. Nothing._

Looking as relaxed as she had ever seen him, the blue-armored sniper gave her a nod and a smile, his duffle over his shoulder. "Chief," he greeted her. "You're looking more at ease than last I saw you. Good leave?"

She fell into step beside him as they made their way to the docking bay doors. His observation made her smile, and she laughed, rubbing her neck under her uniform collar as she considered her response. When she looked up at him to reply, she found his eyes riveted to her hand, in particular her neck, a look of stunned recognition on his face.

Confused, she opened her mouth to ask what the matter was, only to remember. Fingers flew up to cover the impressive love-bite at her neck, her face promptly bursting into red-fleshed flame as she blushed harder than she ever had in her life.

As he stared at the mark, and then her, and then at it again, she flailed at the door lock until it opened and all but fled through the portal. "You could say that! Sir!" she threw over her shoulder, jogging down the walkway and into the safety of the Normandy.

~b~

Several days later, Tanith was staring at the report on her omni-tool, certain she was dreaming. She had just accepted, with her very first cup of coffee that day, that she would just have to let the past go.

_Of all the-_

"-and remember, people; this is not a social call or even a remotely long-term landing. This is a supply run and won't last longer than a cycle. You have shore-leave for ten hours and then you are to report back to the Normandy at the end of it."

Operative Lawson's voice still had that bur of irritation it'd had since they all returned from their extended Omega vacation. The rumor had it that she'd been plastered on Ryncol the entire time and was still hung over.

"If you must indulge yourself in Mr. Moreau's impromptu crew-wide dinner-"

"-it's called a 'snowball fight', Miranda-" Joker's voice quipped from the background.

"_(You sit your ass back down before I break your hips, Joker)_-please be sure to visit either Professor Mordin or Doctor Chakwas before and after for immunizations and a quick medical scan. We have too much to do without spreading viruses amongst ourselves."

There was a pause, and Tanith was fairly sure that Miranda was still broadcasting. The sound of something snapping (like a pencil, she hoped) confirmed this, and a pathetic, stifled scream tore through the ship before it abruptly cut off.

The antics were enough to make her smile, before reality set in again and she stared out the window at the planet getting bigger and bigger through it.

"Of all the places to stop by on the way to Earth," she muttered to herself. Chills ran up her arms, and a nervous, uncomfortable feeling settled in her stomach.

She sighed.

_Noveria._

They docked that day in the capital city of Port Hanshan.

Tanith had gone back and forth, weighing her options about what she should do, and in the end opted to stay aboard the Normandy. Hassled by her friends and crewmates, she resisted all temptation and told them all plainly, no, thank you, she wasn't going to join and them, and if they didn't get off her back about it, she'd poison their food and have Grunt pee in their bunks.

It wasn't like she couldn't use the alone time. She had a lot to go through in her head, and since Omega, they'd never once slowed down. It was supply pickup after supply pickup, special ammunitions, armor crates, gear modifications, ship upgrades, a new shuttle outfit, weapons modifications... And she had to inventory all of it and find a place to stow it all, without crowding this living, moving, flying community she was proud to call home.

So she was adjusting to the work she had ahead of her, checking through her list of things to get done while she finished up her coffee. It'd been an hour or so since everyone had shuffled off, and the Normandy was, despite her various creaks and hums, fairly quiet.

Then the elevator doors opened into the crew quarters, and the voice of Commander Shepard herself carried through the mess area.

"-erberus took the Turian-Human design and improved on it, mostly through expanding mass and living arrangements. The Normandy has a larger crew now, human and non-human, and she has the space to accommodate all of us and then some."

Tanith frowned. Who was she talking to? She craned her head around, trying to peer at the guest her leader had walked in with.

"She is certainly the most luxurious of the stealth ships I've had the pleasure of boarding," came an amused, dual-toned, resonant, familiar Turian voice.

_Son of a-_

"-bitch!" Tanith exclaimed, as she leaned too far and tumbled backward, chair and all.

The clatter she made caught the attention of the two she'd been trying so hard to spy on.

"Chief!" came Shepard's startled response. "What the hell are you doing here? I thought you'd be out with everyone else, throwing snowballs at Grunt's big, arrogant head!"

Face flaming, Tanith did her best to look dignified as she struggled to her feet, dusting off her uniform. "Work to do, Commander. If I have time, I will, but I'd rather stay aboard the Normandy." And then she looked up at the Turian standing further behind Shepard, willing herself to meet his eyes.

If her shock was anything to go by, his was far beyond, tenfold at least. Stunned was an apt description. So was flabbergasted. He was completely besides himself, trying so hard not to gape, dressed in a uniform that she didn't recognize but noted fit him surprisingly well.

Unable to help herself, she licked her lips, fighting the desire to smile as his mandibles fluttered abruptly before drawing tightly inward at the sight.

_Oh we are in such a mess!_ she thought. _What do we do now?_

From Tanith's last words, mere seconds had passed despite how much longer it felt. Commander Shepard was introducing them, gesturing between Tanith and the Turian.

"...of Noveria, and Lorik Qui'in, this is Tanith Delano, our book-cooker aboard the Normandy. She keeps us geared, supplied, and fed, among other things."

Lorik was already lifting his hand, offering it to her in the human gesture of hand-shaking he'd adopted, when a blue sphere materialized nearby.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Commander, but you're needed in the CIC," came EDI's pleasant, artificial voice.

Shepard frowned. "What's up, EDI?"

"Joker is being held hostage in an ice fortress occupied by Subject Zero and Urdnot Grunt, and Miranda is worried she lacks the negotiation skills to get him back unharmed. If you have a moment, I think Operative Lawson is wanting to consult on the matter before she launches a rescue attempt."

The AI even managed to sound amused.

"Alright EDI," laughed Shepard. "I'm on my way." She turned to Tanith and Lorik, apologetic. "I'll be right back. Tani, why don't you show Lorik here the rest of the crew living quarters? I'll pick up where you leave off." And with a wave and woosh of elevator doors, the two of them were left alone.

And then Tanith was being pressed up against a wall, her legs around Lorik's hips, his dark, beautiful face filling her vision before he kissed her hungrily, Turian teeth and tongue and all. She moaned and dug her nails into the back of his neck, squeezing him tightly with arms and legs, unable to lie to herself anymore.

"-can't stop thinking about you-"

"-didn't think I'd see you again-"

"-hope to the Spirits this isn't-"

"-and you're here-"

"-the Normandy?"

"-be in the capital?"

"-too damn old to have an infatuation-"

They were all breathless words, spoken between kisses and caresses and passionate, insistent embracing. It took a moment for them to calm down, and when they did, they still leaned against each other, Tanith's feet on the ground again, his mouth brushing the top of her head, her arms about his waist.

"Lorik," she said quietly, tasting his name. She smiled when she felt him shiver at the sound of his name. "Does this mean you like me?" she mumbled into his chest.

His answering laugh warmed her to her toes, the resonant chuckle making her shiver with delight. "Indeed," he answered. "I set all of this up for you, and no other reason. Because I knew you were on this ship, and organized a rendezvous with Commander Shepard three days before I'd ever met you." His sarcasm bled out quickly, and his arms tightened around her. "But I could say the same of you," he murmured into her hair, a note of hesitant inquiry in his voice. "... I mean ... I thought ..."

He thought she wanted someone else. He thought that their's had been an almost-strictly-professional arrangement. She could hear him think these things as clearly as if he'd spoken them aloud.

He seemed so at a loss that Tanith took pity on him. She drew back and turned her head, tugging down the high collar of her uniform to expose the dark, purple-red mark he'd left behind. His inhale was sharp, staring a moment before touching her skin with careful talons.

"Even if I had wanted to," she said quietly, cheeks blushing with the emotions she felt, "this is only meant to arouse one Turian." She turned her head to fix him with a steady gaze, despite her flush. "The one who made it."

~b~

About an hour later, Shepard came back to find Lorik Qui'in standing alone, leaning against one of the mess tables and staring at the floor. He cut off her greeting with a joke about needing to run off, busy schedule, much to do as Administrator, etc., and would she mind very much catching up later that day?

Shipments had already been handled, the bulk stowed in the cargo bay while the rest was still being boarded. Tanith refused to feel guilty as she waited by the loading ramp, especially when Lorik stalked around the corner, grabbing her hand and hauling her with him as he walked by.

Giggling under her breath, she looked around nervously, wondering if they were going to be reprimanded for wandering through the private sector. The Turian, she noted, couldn't seem to care less, looking down at her with lust and amusement, his arm sneaking out to wind around her and pull her close.

"You walk around here like you own the place," she laughed, trying to summon up that feeling of caution again but feeling it melt beneath the glow of … whatever this was.

He barked a laugh, squeezing her close, pausing at the public entrance to cup her face and draw her mouth up to his in a soft, passionate kiss, before pressing his brow to hers. He was so tall, she had to stand on her toes to accommodate him, before her arms wound about his neck to close the distance. For all their time together, he'd never done that, the brow pressing; the Turian equivelant to a kiss.

"I want her back in eight hours, Administrator," came Shepard's dry, amused tones.

Tanith let go of Lorik with a squeak, her cheeks pink, staring at her Commander with a guilty expression.

The dark Turian turned to Shepard and gave her a sly grin. "I don't know. Think I can convince her to retire with me? I think I need someone to take care of me in my golden years."

Shepard laughed, jabbing a finger in his direction from her place at the entrance archway. "Don't you dare."

"I can always make up something to arrest her for-"

"What!" gasped Tanith, laughing.

"But I mean, she did make off with a large sum of my money on Omega-"

"Oh my god-"

"And she did seduce me, taking advantage of an old, senile, dull-scaled Turian who also happens to run Port Hanshan-"

At this point, Shepard was unable to stop laughing and Tanith was doing her best to wriggle out of Lorik's arms and find a place to hide. He solved the problem by picking her up and hoisting her over his shoulder.

The Commander laughed, shooing the two of them away. "Get out of here before you start some serious rumors."

"Always a pleasure, Commander," came Lorik's even reply, turning about and carrying an indignant Tanith in the general direction of his personal quarters, ignoring the gaping onlookers that had gathered around. She even thought she'd caught a glimpse of an astonished Kelly as the Turian hauled her away.

… _she is never going to let me live this one down,_ was Tanith's last desperate thought, before the doors to Lorik's apartment closed her off from everyone's view.

And then, for the next eight hours after that Tanith Delano couldn't be bothered to think much about anything at all.

~fin~


	4. Bonus Chapter - The Spanking

The lovely people at MassKink asked for more on these two, so I responded to a meme-request and posted this bit of drabble to let folks know I was still alive. This isn't the sequel for these two, but I swear that's coming soon too. In the mean-time, this contains graphic sexual content and shouldn't be read if you don't like that kind of thing. Also, Bioware owns all Mass Effect. Tanith is the only thing that's mine.

* * *

><p>Tanith tried to look anxious, but how was she supposed to manage that when her big, looming, older gentleman of a Turian lover was man-handling her over his lap.<p>

"I said I was sorry!" she squeaked, squirming in his arms.

He didn't say anything, sitting in the chair in the living space of his private quarters, grunting as she tried to shove off of him. He clamped a hand around her wrists and flipped her over on to her stomach. He growled when her legs kicked out, digging his claws into the clotch overing her backside.

"This will be far worse for you if you don't stop that infantile thrashing, Tanith Delano," he hissed, low and deep. He withdrew the pressure of his talons when she froze, trembling. "That's my good girl."

With the edges of his claws, he traced the skin along the back of her thighs, encouraging her shiver, traveling higher and higher, catching the edge of her skirt and hiking it up a tantalizing centimeter at a time.

"Now, my dear ... tell me. What was it I explicitly told you not to do while you stayed here with me?" he purred to her, words carrying the very trace of an edge to them.

Tani began to worry at her bottom lip, trying not to squirm.

"W-w-e-e-l-ll... there were so many rules, I don't know which-"

He yanked her skirt all the way up, bunching it around her hips in one aggressive movement; it was enough to make her squeak in alarm. "Tanith."

Her face felt flushed. "Y-y-yes, Lorik?" she stammered.

"Tell me."

"You said... you said my money was no good on this trip ... t-t-that I wasn't to spend a cent of my own-"

"That's right. So, why am I going to punish you?"

Tani turned her face away, shaking.

He pressed clever careful fingertips against the crotch of her panties, making her whimper in surprise; she was already so wet.

"Lorik, please-"

"Tell me, Tanith."

She still couldn't speak, and when he teased aside the fabric to slip one thick, long digit into her, her spine arched and she completely forgot her lines.

"I-"

"The gown, Tanith."

Oh right.

"It's... it's... ohgodIcan't_think_whenyoudothatLorik-"

He withdrew the finger, and then slid it back in. Again. And again. And when she couldn't help the loud, resonant moan that escaped her, he pulled back and emptied her completely. Her trill of frustration made him smile, but she couldn't see it.

"If you keep talking, I'll keep going," he whispered to her, like he had all the time in the world. Which was a total lie; she could feel his erection pressing into her belly through his pants. She made a show of squirming against it, until the Turian gave in and gave her round, ample bottom a nice swat.

_That_ took her by surprise. She jerked in his lap and cried out, going limp right afterward to pant. Her wrists twisted in his grip as he began to laugh.

"I told you not to spend a single dime of your money, that you were my guest and I wanted to take care of you. But the second night you're here... what is it you do? You go to the most expensive boutique on the station and buy the most expensive garment you can, then have it delivered here." He spanked her again, hard and quick. He smiled at her second cry, the way her ass lifted perfectly in the air afterwards; penance.

"What else am I to think," he continued, "that you were flouting your insubordination beneath my very nose?" And with that, he spanked her fast and hard in a flurry of movement, ten good ones in quick succession.

By the end of it, Tanith was on her toes, straining in his lap, fighting the grip he had around her wrists. Panting, face flush and ass pink, her eyes heavy lidded with euphoria... Lorik had a hard time not taking her right there. But he reined himself in, waiting for her to come down before he spoke again. He was thankful she couldn't see his face, she wouldn't let it go how his mandibles fluttered with excitement.

"What do you have to say, my pet?" the Turian purred at her.

Tanith whimpered softly and squirmed against him, an undulation of her curves he was particularly fond of. He gave her another little swat, and she stilled.

"I..."

"Hmmm?" he coaxed.

She swallowed loudly and loosed a long exhale, trembling body pressing into his thighs. "Please, forgive me," she whispered.

His fingertips were at her opening, teasing the wet folds, tracing its edges. "Excuse me?"

Shaking, she said, "Forgive me!"

He slid two fingers deep into her, hard and swift, and fucked her into a quick orgasm. Crying out, she thrust back into his palm and lifted her hips, eagerly accepting his pardon as waves of pleasure crashed into her, sending shudders and shockwaves rippling through her curves as he pushed her over the edge.

With a last, tender wail, she went limp and sagged across his thighs, both of them breathing hard. He had withdrawn his fingers, tracing gentle circles on the back of her thighs. When she dared to steal a peek at him, his eyes were closed, head tilting back against the chair, his mandibles flared.

His beautiful marks against his sable skin never ceased to entrance her, and for a moment, lost in bliss, she simply stared at him as he recovered his control. She especially like the broad stripe that when from his bottom lip to his chin; she always had a hard time not tracing the strip of white with a slow tongue...

Dark gray eyes opened and fixed on her, and his expression tightened into a pleased, almost-sated smile. He release her wrists to run a hand through her hair.

Her lips twisted into a rueful smile, and she drawled, "Did you even open the box, Lorik?"

Blinking at her a moment, he shook his head and gave a small, almost embarrassed laugh. "I did not. I was too excited to have found a reason to bend you over my lap."

She quirked a brow at him. "Like you need a reason, iadministrator/i."

"Mmmph. Don't do that. You'll get me started again, and I don't think my poor heart could handle it."

They both laughed at that, Tanith standing with a careful wince as skin stung and legs trembled. Lorik watched her with amused eyes, his smile widening as she peeled the dress from her body, leaving her standing in underwear, garters, stockings, and heels. He growled low and made to claw at the panties around her thighs. She dodged him and turned around to step out of them herself, throwing them at him as she made for the box on the desk by the door. "Pervert," she called over her shoulder. His answering chuckle sent warm ripples of pleasure down her spine.

Just out of view, she pulled on her purchase and shimmied her hips to get it into place, smoothing it over and checking her reflection in the mirror in the hall. She stepped back into the living room, hips swaying to ensure it had just the right affect.

It was a lovely night gown, short, dark gray, and shimmered mutely over her skin like satin. Thin straps at her shoulders held it in place, the sweetheart neckline edged in black crystals and blood red droplets of polished ruby. The edge of the nightgrown stopped a few inches above the line of her thigh-high stalkings, though the black and red crystals continued in tassels that skimmed almost to her knees.

When she moved, it flickered and shivered, enhancing the roll of her hips and the curve of her body, distinctly non-Turian and very human.

Things Lorik Qui'in loved about her.

By the time she made her way over to him, his whole body was tense, talons digging into the arms of his chair as he stared at her. She slid into his lap, straddling his thighs, and drew his arms around her.

"So..." she breathed, tracing her tongue down the white strip that went from his lip to his jaw. "As you can see, it's really a present ... for you." She rolled her hips, grinning as she felt him grip them, a hungry look in his eyes. "Do you like it? If it doesn't fit, I can take it ba-"

Lorik did like bending her over. She was such a wicked, insubordinate young thing.


End file.
